


power structures

by starforged



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Orgasm Denial, PWP, Vaginal Fingering, because Evfra is a jerk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 01:48:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11544900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starforged/pseuds/starforged
Summary: Evfra keeps testing Sara's willpower, but she's always had a mind of her own. (It's not always a good thing.)





	power structures

It was an ominous email. 

That was Sara’s first thought as she stared at said unopened email, glaring at her from the screen with Evfra de Tershaav’s name stamped on it from the sender. She bit her lip, narrowing her eyes as she leaned in closer. 

“Sara,” came SAM’s voice. “Are you having trouble with your sight?”  
It was as equal parts concern and curiosity as an AI could get.

“Maybe I need glasses, because I swear that Evfra sent me an email,” she muttered.

“That is an email from the Resistance Forces leader.”

Right. Of course it was. But why?

_Meet me on Aya. There are things to discuss._

No greeting, no closing. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Sara was trying with him, trying to build trust and maybe friendship. And she was right about it being an ominous email. 

There was a part of her, of course, that wanted to be obstinate. No part of the email indicated a particular sense of urgency, and she was the Pathfinder. Pathfinding took precedence over whatever lecture Evfra would give her this time about… well, whatever suited him at the time. He was good at being gruff and authoritative. 

She rested her chin in the palm of her hand, staring at the terminal screen.  
Then again, it could have been important. Intel Evfra didn’t trust over a server. Smart. She knew that about him, too. 

“I think it would be pertinent if we at least met up with him, Sara,” SAM suggested. She found herself nodding. 

“No reason to burn bridges.”

* * *

Evfra, for his part, looked absolutely bored to see her. That boded well. Her arm was stuck at an awkward 90 degree angle, fingers together in a wave that wasn’t going to be stiff and just turned out to be that way. The smooth lines of his bored face moved together until he looked more annoyed with her than anything. 

“Hey,” Sara greeted. “Is everything okay?”

His arms crossed over his chest, a slight tilt to his head as he regarded her. “We’re at war, Ryder. There is not much that is okay.”

Despite herself, her nose wrinkled. Optimism and positivity did not stick to Evfra whatsoever. She couldn’t blame him, though. As much as he had been through, as much as he had seen,it wasn’t exactly surprising. She just didn’t think it would hurt him to try.

“I wasn’t sure if this meeting was urgent then?”

“Come with me.” He walked toward the door leading down to the sparring rooms below the Resistance headquarters. An order. Everything from him was an order, but she was curious.

And she was used to orders, an unfortunate side effect. 

With one eyebrow arched, teeth worrying at the skin of her bottom lip, she followed after him.

“You’re not usually so mysterious, Evfra,” Sara said. “It’s a little creepy.”

It was also a little attractive, but she was sure that was more because it was Evfra and because Sara Ryder had a serious problem when it came to angry, distrustful soldiers with scars. It was definitely a _thing_. 

A snort filled the hallway. 

She didn’t think it came from her. 

She was mostly positive it hadn’t come from her. 

“Jaal makes mention of your skills, as do some of the other soldiers who have seen you fighting the kett.”

“Okay?”

Evfra opened a door off the main room overlooking the sparring area. “We are going to fight.”

Not knowing what to say, Sara followed him down another set of stairs until they came to another room. This one was closed off, no windows above them for other people to observe. Private training quarters, maybe. It didn’t help to settle the nervous bloom that had spread from Sara’s chest to the rest of her body. 

She trusted Evfra, but she was beginning to wonder if that was the wrong fucking idea.

_Don’t worry, Sara_ , SAM spoke in the privacy of her mind. _Should anything happen, an alert will sound to the rest of the team._

“I’m not exactly a combat specialist.” She wasn’t a soldier. Maybe now she was, in some way, but she hadn’t been raised to be one. “Biotics, guns. That sort of thing.”

Evfra turned to face her. “And yet, here you stand, having fought against the kett and won each time. You have faced the Archon.”

“Sort of? If by face, you mean I was caught in his little forcefield,” she argued.  
The look he gave her was unimpressed. He was always unimpressed, even when his tone softened, even when she didn’t totally fuck everything up.

“We will fight, Pathfinder.” There was the slightest twitch of his mouth which could have been mistaken as a smile. 

With a sigh, Sara unzipped her jacket and tossed it behind her. Why was everyone always trying to fight her? Or make her fight with them? Still, the idea was exciting that Evfra would think enough of her to want to spar with her. She couldn’t wrap her head around that. 

There were a million things she could have said, and none of them would have made sense. There were jokes, but he didn’t really joke. There was a speech about having him take her seriously, but if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have brought her here. He would have forgotten about her. What Evfra wanted was to test her, and that was unbelievably flattering.

“I’ve never been good at sparring,” she told him.

“You talk too much.”

Talking made her feel better, and she almost said that to keep the conversation going. There was a reason why words were constantly tripping off the tip of her tongue. 

She rolled her shoulders and offered up a grin. “You’re not the first person to tell me that, sorry.”

“Hmph. Unsurprising.”

Evfra put his hands up, taking a step closer to her. She followed suit, keeping her hands up and watching him closely. She knew how to fight, of course. Her father had been N7, and he was more than happy to prepare his kids. She’d always been scrappy, got into a few minor fist fights as she grew up.

Evfra threw the first shot, and if Sara hadn’t already had her hands up, she would have taken his fist to her jaw. As it was, his knuckles glanced off of her. She was knocked back a few steps, definitely on the defensive. He was bigger than her - taller, wider. His life had been dedicated to the fight. One hit was going to knock her down, so they danced around each other as she blocked and he went for it again and again. The grin that pulled at his lips was almost feral, teeth bared. 

She came in low and fast with a kick to his side. Preoccupied with trying to hit her - and honestly, she wasn’t sure if her arms could _take_ another hit - he didn’t see her boot coming for his rib. There was a sudden escape of air from his lips. A light came to life in his eyes, but she didn’t let it distract her as she went for a punch. He moved, and she clipped his shoulder instead. 

It was _exhilarating_. He got a gut punch, driving his fist into her until she doubled over with a gasp, a shock of pain flaring. She got in another kick. There was something freeing about a fight that had no beginning and end. There was no life or death behind it, no tussle for revenge or justice. It was just pure and natural, energy being spent at the cost of testing each other. 

With a laugh, without even thinking about it, she leaped at him. Her body slammed against his. He was unprepared for it. It was in the way his eyes widened, in the way he tipped backwards toward the floor with her latched onto him. Not what she meant, not what she meant. 

There was a panicky flutter that rose up in her.

“Oh shit, shit.”

Evfra grunted when they hit the floor, him cushioning her. One hand went to her hip. One of her hands went to the floor near his face to prop herself up. The other was trapped between their bodies, and this was awkward enough without her wriggling herself free.

She didn’t want to think about wriggling herself against him. Or… What being against him felt like, the hard lines of his body pressing into her. Or the way his scar twisted his mouth in a way that was both irritated and amused, and she definitely wanted to kiss it.

“Your face is red, Pathfinder, and I doubt it’s because of the match,” Evfra pointed out in a bored tone. Ouch. He just took her apart so easily. 

“Yeah, uh, usually… Don’t find myself - Look, I’m just going to remove myself - what I mean is, I’m sorry,” Sara muttered as she tried to slide off of him.

He was quick. Suddenly she was slammed onto her back, her hands pinned above her head as he leaned over her. If her face was red before, she could only imagine the mottled crimson color she was turning now as her face ignited hotter. 

“You’re not as terrible at sparring as you think you are,” he told her.

“Thanks?” She licked her lips. “Is this - and not that I mind - but are you trying to tell me something with this position?”

“Why?” His head tilted, and she was mesmerized by the darkening of his blue eyes. Was she dreaming? Another fantasy gone awry? His face was too close, and she could see the way the blues melded seamlessly into purples, and _fuck_ , she wanted to trace the lines of his scars. “Is this something humans enjoy?”

“This human does,” she said. “This human is enjoying this a lot more than she thought.”

She was spending too much time around Jaal, not keeping her hand close to her chest. But it was desire and nervousness bubbling up all at once, and if he was going to tease her, she was going to let him know what it was doing to her. 

“You drive me insane, Pathfinder. You come to us, an alien, and decided the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Part of her is expecting this to be spat at her, but the words are soft and curious. “And yet, the work you have done, the help you have given my people…”

Sara shook her head. “A lending hand. I’m not here to take away from what the angarans have done, Evfra. I just want to make this a home for us.”

“I know.”

She doesn’t know what to say, and he is as silent as she is, his fingers wrapped tightly around her wrists. An odd way to have such a heartfelt conversation, honestly. It was as though Evfra didn’t really know what he was doing, or how to go about what he wanted. And there was something touching about that, about a man so cut off because of tragedy and war that he couldn’t reconnect to what Sara thought was just instinctual to the angarans: emotions.

“Is this the part where you kiss me?”

It was the part where he kissed her, rough and sure. He kissed like he fought: he didn’t hold back. A distant thought rose up in her mind, and she wondered if he had been with anyone since his family had been taken by the kett, if he had been soft then, if he had wanted in a different way before the war. 

Her hands struggled against him, demanding to be free as she met him. He nipped at her mouth, and she gave a breathy gasp at the sensation, the pain and the desire that curled tightly in her belly and lower. With ease, he kept her hands pinned at the wrist. 

His mouth trailed against her skin, along her jaw. “Keep your hands where they are, or I’ll stop.”

“What?” Her head was spinning. It took her a moment to realize those were actual words. That was a demand. 

“Your hands, Ryder. Keep them where they are.”

“Not a problem since you’ve got them,” she said with a laugh. 

“I’m going to let them go.” He smiled at her, but it wasn’t any less feral than his face before. “Don’t move them.”

Her fingers flexed when his grip was gone, and she gave him a cheeky smirk. “Does that count?” They wiggled more. 

He kissed her until she was breathless and out of words, one hand moving over her body slowly. It took her a moment to realize that she was his first human, that he wouldn’t know what she would feel like, look like. If looking was going to happen, if feeling under the clothes would. Was this just letting steam off in another way? Was it another test?

Her back arched as his teeth scraped over the sensitive skin of her neck, a soft gasp caught in the back of her throat. Thick fingers brushed over her breast through the tank top. It took everything Sara Ryder had in her to keep from moving her hands, to keep from grabbing his to shove under her shirt, under her bra, so that he was touching her. She wanted to touch him in return, to run her fingers over the muscles in his arms, over the curves and dips of his chest to figure him out. 

He didn’t want her to touch him.

She could live with that. 

She could not live with his light touches over her clothes, the way he barely cupped her breasts, the way he slid over her thighs, her hips, in juxtaposition to the rough nature of his mouth as he explored what little exposed skin there was. Her tank top had ridden up her stomach, and his tongue lavished the area. 

“Evfra,” she moaned. Fuck, a moan, and he had barely done anything to her. But she was already a quivering mess, an ache reaching out from her core in demand. “Please touch me already.”

He glanced up at her. “I am.”

_“More.”_

His grin was sly. It was torture. “Here I thought the Pathfinder would be more patient.”

“This is not the kind of thing I can be patient about,” she complained. His hand slid under her shirt, warm skin against warm skin. He pushed her bra up until his hand could cup her breast, kneading it. She arched into his touch with a whimper as the calloused pads of his fingers found her nipple, rolling it between them. 

His laugh caught against her skin as he kissed a trail up her stomach to her sternum, pushing fabric out of his way as he did so. He didn’t take the time to undress her, and that was only a faint disappointment before his tongue found her other nipple, running circles around the hardened bud. There wasn’t time to be disappointed, to compare this to romantic fantasies she had played out in her head. 

She clenched her hands, nails digging into her palms. Maybe her hands had to stay put, but he said nothing about her legs. She hooked one around his waist, pulling him closer to her until she could roll her hips against him. It was not enough, the friction there and then gone again. He laughed, deep in his chest, and it shot through her. She didn’t think it was possible to feel more turned on than she was. 

Evfra lifted his head from her breast, eyes as blue as the night sky, glazed. “Do you still want more?”

“Please.” It wasn’t even a word. It was an emotion that came out in a whimper, a breath covered in need. 

He kissed her again, softer this time, the tip of his tongue touching her own as he undid the button of her pants. She shifted her hips, legs spread beneath of him as he got his hand in through the waist band, beneath of her underwear. He moved along her curls until he got to her slit, one finger drawing up, teasing. He groaned into her mouth. She was soaked, and he didn’t have to work hard to find that out. She smirked as she bit his bottom lip, tugging at it as he slid one of his fingers between the folds. It dragged a hiss out of him, and in retaliation, her found her clit and strummed against it. 

She shuddered and moaned, hands lifting from the ground. 

He stopped touching her, eyes moving from her face to the offending hands. “I won’t tell you again.”

“So bossy.”

Sara put her hands down again, clasping them together. There was an ache in her arms where they met her shoulders, but it was such a dumb complaint in the face of the way he rubbed her in slow, agonizing circles. Her hips jolted up, and she bit her own lip this time as he buried his face against her chest again. A whimper bubbled out of her when his finger slid back down her folds until it was inside of her, tip swirling her hole until her hips stuttered. It was shallow, slow, an awkward angle with her pants still on, but she didn’t care. 

“Fuck,” she whispered between pants. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

“Is that what you want?” Despite the way his own breathing had become shallow, his voice huskier, Evfra managed to keep an air of calm. “You want me to fuck you?”

Was it an offer? Was it just a question? She didn’t cared. _“Yes.”_

Yes, and his hand was gone. She could have screamed. She did, a little squeal of frustration when all pleasure had stopped, when he was gone from her aching, needing body. Before she could protest, he was moving to tug her pants and underwear to her knees, exposing her. Before she could protest, his hand was on her again, back inside of her with more reach, harder and faster. Her back arched as he fucked her, the scream needier when his other digit found her clit again. She squeezed her eyes shut, riding his hand, wanting to push him down and ride something else of his. If she was in control of this situation, she wasn’t aware of it. It seemed like he had all the power, even when she asked for what she wanted. 

She throbbed, body tightening around him as he stroked her. He sat back and watched her writhe beneath of him with a cool, collected face. It made her want him even more, to break through that mask until she could make him groan again, until he was the one moaning and desperate. 

“Evfra, please.” Sara didn’t know what she was begging for. For him to emote a little more, for him to fuck her, for him to bring her over that edge she was fastly approaching, her movements more erratic and desperate. “Please, more.”

He went deeper, harder, but slow. So slow. She needed it fast, she was almost there. 

Her hand wrapped around his wrist to help him. 

He sighed. He pulled out of her leaving her empty, cool air brushing against her warmth. She cried, actually _cried_ , at the absence of him.

“What- No, please, I’m sorry,” Sara begged.

He shook his head, licking his fingers. “I told you not to move them again.”

Her chest heaved with her pants as she watched him lick herself off of his fingers. He was going to kill her. This was how she would expire and SAM would have to tell the crew that she died from being denied an orgasm and that would be her legacy forevermore in Andromeda. The Pathfinder who got denied getting off. 

“Are you serious?” She found the strength to sit up, every part of her body quivering. Desperation clung to her like a shawl. Her heart beat in time to her throbbing. She grabbed his hand. “You’re a sadist.”

“I think you’re enjoying it,” Evfra told her.

With a cry of frustrating, she moved closer to him until she could put his fingers in her mouth, sucking the taste of her off of him. The sound he made was heaven. She could have gotten off to that sound alone. He waited until she was done, at least, before taking his hand from her, before she could get any more ideas. 

“Pull your pants up, Ryder. If you’re good next time,” he said as he kissed her, words whispered against her lips, “I’ll get you off. But until then, I want you to remember how you feel right now. How much you need me.”

“I think I hate you,” she whimpered.  



End file.
